


Define 'Fling'

by adorabias



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, College AU, F/M, M/M, i wrote this because I think I'm funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorabias/pseuds/adorabias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark had spent an awful lot of years at this college - the reason why was under a lot of speculation but the popular theory was that he just didn't want to go out into the real world - but he had still never encountered a life like this. For once, his friends were his age and actually kept up with him a fair amount of the time. But for everything else, he was quickly finding that he could rely on Loki Odinson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Define 'Fling'

**Author's Note:**

> I admit that this was definitely just for my own person amusement- I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it!

“And I’m just saying that you and Natasha really could’ve done something more interesting for the summer than to just go to Budapest.”  
  
“Well then I’m just going to say that those sunglasses look like their natural habitat was the Dollar Tree.”  
  
The first day of class was really grating enough for any college student, marking the end of their opportunities for any summertime shenanigans and instead being confronted with the very real realization that there was finally work to do. Not that the two men who were leisurely having a chat at one of the outside tables of an on-campus café looked like they really had a care in the world.  
  
“Barton, that cuts deep, these were a gift from my grandmother.”  
  
“You never met your grandmother, Tony.”  
  
The sunglasses-that-definitely-were-not-from-Dollar-Tree were lowered as the Stark heir gave the man across from him a very, very grave look. “Well apparently I never had to have met her to receive a gift or two-mil.”  
  
Clint sighed, twirling a still-covered straw in between his fingers as he reclined in his chair, “Yes yes, Anthony Edward—oh I’m sorry. Tony Stark, the great and grand heir of Stark Industries who graduated MIT Summa Cum Laude at 15 and… what’ve you been doing now?”  
  
He pointedly ignored Tony’s slowly souring expression that essentially accused Clint of going off-script.  
  
“Oh yes, that’s right. Working on your… what is it now? Fifth? Sixth? Extra graduate degree here where we welcome you to University of Southern California with open arms and eager ass kissing,” he finished off.  
  
“And where do you, Clint Barton, get to tell me off when you’re still working on getting your first degree in… a Physics major, was it?” Tony tilted his head just a fraction, knowing full well how much Clint hated people getting surprised over his surprisingly in-depth and complicated major.  
  
But he showed his mastery as he quickly tore off the end of the straw wrapper, lifted it to his lips, and gave just enough of a puff of breath to shoot the rest of the cover straight through the air in a perfect line. Its target was the middle of Tony’s forehead.  
  
The billionaire just gave him a very unimpressed stare.   
  
Luckily before they began a miniaturized war using plastic forks and coffee stirrers as their weapons of choice, an ever familiar clacking of heels successfully snagged their attention.  
  
“Hey Tasha,” Clint turned to face her, a small grin working its way onto his face even against his better judgment.   
  
Tony observed for a moment, a little amused. It wasn’t even that everyone knew that Clint and Natasha had a thing; it was the small things that made it apparent to anyone who did know that it was so obvious that it nearly caused chronic pain. He’d been attending this school for years – maybe too many now that he was actually of proper college age and matching his new friends birthday for birthday – but he hadn’t seen anyone act so precariously about a relationship before.  
  
So instead he just shook his head ever so slightly before completely removing the sunglasses and giving Natasha a bright, fake grin of his own. Perhaps a way to mock Clint, but what was definitely mocking Clint was the light and airy “Hey Tasha” that Tony greeted her with.  
  
Something tugged lightly at the very corner of Natasha’s mouth, a threat of a smile, before she just gave her usual greeting. “Boys. Back here again?”  
  
“Well you had to find us somehow, right?” Tony shrugged, fiddling around with the fork that came with the cheesecake that he had absolutely decimated a little more than ten minutes ago.   
  
They were a common sight at this café- not just the three of them but the three of them plus three more. It was that thought that made Clint ask, “So do Steve, Bruce, and Thor all have class or something?”  
  
Natasha shifted her weight to one leg and placed a hand on her hip, a light rise and fall of her shoulder characterizing a dainty shrug. It was almost an act to give off the idea that she didn’t really know. But she was Natasha, therefore she always knew. This proved to be a fact as she quickly relayed, “Last I saw Bruce, he was just picking up some more books, Steve texted me that his class just ended on my way over here, and Thor…”  
  
A slight inclination of her head to the left made both of the sitting men follow her gaze.  
  
Slightly off to the distance and just barely under the shade of some trees, they noticed Thor on his phone. Tony quickly noticed that it wasn’t a StarkFone, trying and failing to smother some of his resentment. But that played second fiddle to the fact that for once, the big lug wasn’t smiling and grinning like he normally was. Instead, he almost seemed frustrated.  
  
“Weird,” he noted and took an obnoxiously loud sip of his drink, “What’s under Thor’s skin? Besides enough muscle to strangle an angry bison.”  
  
Again, both of them looked to Natasha for answers.  
  
Heaving a slight sigh and not exactly pleased to be used as an information network, Natasha gave them both an exasperated look. Sadly, she knew for a fact that she was the only one who cared to keep tabs on things enough to actually know. “Rumor has it—”  
  
“Terrible song.”  
  
“I dunno, I think it’s catchy.”  
  
“I might’ve just lost a little respect for you, Barton.”  
  
“Rumor has it that we will soon be welcoming another Odinson into our ranks. The admissions office was abuzz. We’re slowly getting more and more millionaires in this place, so they’re hoping it’ll lead to some very grateful alumni,” she rubbed her pointer finger and thumb together to try to get a point across.  
  
“Mucho dinero,” Tony nodded. Never mind that he was one of the people they were counting on to be one of those happy alumni. Or at least, he’d better be given how much time he’d wasted there getting all those degrees. And he knew it was a waste but he still didn’t seem to care.  
  
“Huh. A little Thor? I’m assuming they’re little because they can’t really get much bigger,” Clint noted, his eyebrows raised at the very idea.  
  
“Loki Odinson,” Natasha offered as she sauntered her way over to the free chair, finally figuring that the ridiculous heels she was wearing were annoying enough that she could take a seat. Without a word, she reached for the caramel macchiato that she knew very well was for her. Then she took a brief glance at what else was sitting on the table. “Green tea frappuccino for Bruce? You know he won’t like that.”  
  
“I actually thought the failed experiment that released a bunch of green bubbles into the room was really funny,” Clint gave an injured sniff.  
  
As they dissolved into discussing how Clint was terrible at buying things for people, Tony was still tossing a few ideas around in his head. It was still bothering him. Thor always seemed like such a family guy, it was odd to think that he wasn’t happy to welcome his brother into the school. And Tony was actually more than curious about what kind of person this Loki Odinson was, and why he had only transferred in now instead of just enrolling with Thor to begin with.  
  
He also thought ‘Loki’ was definitely a name he could see himself groaning into the night, if looks ran in the family and maybe this one wasn’t as much of a straight-edge as Thor but that was something he thought he could keep to himself.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Tony kept it to himself.   
  
He kept it to himself all the way through the evening, even as he greeted Thor in his usual fashion—mostly. He did slap the guy on the back reassuringly because he didn’t know any way to show his concern for the jock that he now called his friend. Steve and Bruce joined them as well, then with one idea leading to another, they circled around and hotly debated what kind of pizza they would be ordering that night since Bruce insisted on healthy things and vegetables whereas Thor was adamant that he could order his own meat lovers pizza and finish it off himself.  
  
Tony wanted to make it hard on everyone and decided to be the guy who wanted pineapple even though he didn’t personally like pineapple.  
  
Then it was story time as they all completely dominated a fairly large table at the local pizza parlor.  
  
Apparently Steve had just gone back home during the summer break, spending some time with his mother and then doing some spare work over at Coney Island because the guy was just fond of kids. Tony shook his head a bit at his friend and his good-natured ways, then busted a gut when Steve described an encounter with an escort—without even seeming to know that she was an escort until his story was met with some laughter. The red on his cheeks was just so very much worth everything.  
  
Bruce shrugged and relayed his little story of doing charity work in some little place in South America, he met a lot of people and managed to help even more of them. He was quite pleased for his scholarship and blah di blah all the things that managed to make everyone else in the room smile, but Tony just sighed. “Save it for the thank you letter you’re indubitably sending the people who gave you the money,” Tony waved a hand. That was the cue for everyone to roll their eyes because they doubted that Tony ever sent out a thank you letter in his life.  
  
(Maybe it was a little out of place but seeing as Stark Industries was the one who gave Bruce the scholarship, Tony didn’t want to hear another word of it. His dad could read the letter when it showed up on his desk.)  
  
Clint and Natasha told stories about Budapest that Tony tuned out just to smite them both. It didn’t work because as soon as Natasha said ‘gunshot’, he was right back to paying attention and considering the possibility of organizing a separate security guard group that would trail his friends when they were in other parts of the world.  
  
Tony shrugged when it got to his turn. He could tell them about flying around to all parts of the world because he could and because he wanted to, enjoying himself and taking in all the pleasures of the world while he was still young—  
  
Or he could’ve told them the truth that he was being a remarkably responsible businessman and the only marks against his record were the ones that happened in the unholy hours of morning but that would happen to anyone, right?  
  
In the end he decided not to tell them much of anything, simply because Tony realized years and years ago that when the media had started telling all your stories for you, telling them again lacked a lot of substance and purpose.  
  
Thor’s turn started out stilted, they had to pull his gaze away from the window and back to the rest of them before he seemed to inflate with his usual swagger. Then it was time for another grand tale of Thor’s adventures with his friends – he had seriously started calling them the Warriors Three – and how they went into the mountains and ended up having to fight a bear. Did he mention that it was also raining and thundering? Let’s not forget the fact that poor Hogun was out of the action because he fell into a river and was down with a cold. So that left just three of them to tame the savage beast.  
  
It was a usual night of laughter and it was as if they hadn’t even spent two months apart from each other, what with the way that Steve held the door open for all of them on the way out, Tony paying the bill without anyone even questioning a thing and him not even minding. Natasha went off to her separate apartment off-campus, Clint went to his fraternity house, Bruce and Steve were going to their shared place that was within walking distance from campus, and Tony was just going to follow after Thor in the direction of the parking lot so he could drive to his upper-class—  
  
“Hold on a second here—buddy, did you have something mixed in with your root beer tonight? Your fraternity’s in the other direction,” Tony picked up the pace of his steps to try to match the strides of the giant.  
  
In the seconds that it took Thor to realize that he was being spoken to, Tony swore that he also could’ve turned around in the other direction. But the words that came out of his mouth were enough to make Tony want to make an about-face— “Ah, did I not inform you…? I recently managed to take up residence elsewhere! It took some negotiations but I came out triumphant. I believe that I am now in the building you always entertain us in.”  
  
His friend paused in his steps momentarily, which was enough for Thor to make it the rest of the way to the parking lot, before he picked up a jog to catch up and mutter, “Yeah. Of course you did. Well come on, big guy, let’s make Mama Earth proud and do that carpool thing. I’ve got room in the Ferrari.”  
  
Some part of Tony’s mind still buzzed with questions, particularly why it was that Thor moved elsewhere when it was known that he and – oh god help Tony if he actually started using this nickname frequently – the “Warriors Three”, as his friends called themselves, had a jolly good time in their fraternity housing.   
  
But then there was a flash of a pretty face in his head, one belonging to a Miss Jane Foster, which greeted Tony every day outside his residence the previous semester when he was leaving about 11 for his class at 1 and she was just coming back from her class that finished up at 10. Oh. Yeah, he guessed it wasn’t too hard to imagine why Thor wanted to move to his place.  
  
Tony kept those thoughts to himself too, instead turning up Thunderstruck loud enough for both him and his friend to enjoy.  
  


 

* * *

  
  
“Good morning, Jane sweetheart,” Tony chirped rather happily as he caught her gaze, exiting from the parking lot the next morning.  
  
“And good morning to you, Tony” she gave him a brilliant flash of teeth, pointedly ignoring the term of endearment that latched onto her name even when she told him to kill it, “You’re awfully early. Normally I catch you just leaving instead of arriving.”  
  
He just gave her a none-too-ashamed rise and fall of his shoulders before he tilted his head to get a better look at her. “I actually have stuff to do this morning. Who would’ve guessed, huh?”  
  
A chime of a laugh passed through her lips as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the other arm preoccupied with holding a mass of books. “I definitely wouldn’t have. But you take care, okay? Maybe keep up this string of healthy life habits.”  
  
“You too,” Tony smiled as he started up his pace of walking again, “What do you say we do coffee sometime? You can tell me what you did this summer. I’m expecting observatories and mind-shattering discoveries!”  
  
He didn’t even bother to listen for her answer as he proceeded onward. Ideally speaking, he would be able to cash in on that coffee date sometime in the morning, just casually slip a word to Thor so he’d be there at the right place and right time, and then make sure that he conveniently had something else with Bruce instead.  
  
Damn, he would start calling himself Hitch if he didn’t respect Will Smith so much.  
  
Idly, his thoughts drifted to Thor just as he placed his ear buds in, trusting his phone-slash-music-player-slash-GPS-slash-whatever-the-hell-he-wanted-it-to-be to give him a suitable anthem to walk to. He’d banged on the lug’s new residence a few times even though he knew it would take a damn cavalry to wake him up, but thought it would be worth a shot. He didn’t even hear the giant’s snoring.  
  
But it was still abominably early – about 9:47 which equated to the dead asleep hour for Tony – so it wasn’t like Thor could possibly be awake. Maybe he just got that snoring problem fixed over the summer.  
  
So it was just when Starkify, which was Tony’s pet project when he decided that Spotify was dumb, got to a good song and he even started mumbling the verse under his breath – “can he see or is he blind?” – when there was suddenly a hand on his shoulder.  
  
He stiffened and decided he was about to go Bruce Lee on the guy’s ass (and it had to be a guy because damn those hands felt rough and ugly if hands could be ugly) when he hears the very monotone and very uninteresting voice drone, “Good morning, Stark.”  
  
It took everything he had to bite back a groan.  
  
“Goooood morning, Mr. Coulson!” Tony tugged on the wire until his hearing was clear again and he gave a big, fake, ‘I really don’t want to see you this early in my day’ smile to the man who was giving him a very deliberate look. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”  
  
And by pleasure he meant eye-searing pain.  
  
“Cute, but I’m not really interested in your games today. Come on, Director Fury’s requesting a word with you,” the older man patted him not so kindly on the back in the direction of the administration office.  
  
Tony did his best not to roll his eyes in response, seeing as ‘Director’ really wasn’t the guy’s title but he supposed that yes, it did come off as a bit more intimidating than ‘Dean of Students’.  
  
Still though, the only reason he didn’t try to talk his way out of it was the little mumble that came from under Coulson’s breath that sounded a lot like “and here I thought you were friends with Thor.”  
  


 

* * *

 

  
“So should we cut him down maybe?”  
  
“It’d be faster than waiting for the adhesive to wear out, Bruce. Someone go to the gym and get a few mats to lie down on the ground.”  
  
“Come on Tasha, you’re babying him. He can totally take it.”   
  
The familiar voices completely befuddled Tony as he walked into the administration office. Maybe Natasha a little less since Tony had never even seen her sleep, ever. Okay perhaps Clint could also be excused because the early bird catches the worm and almost every bird saying that Tony could come up with could be accurately applied to Clint—  
  
But Bruce didn’t come out from his man cave (and Tony ignored the fact that Bruce told him not to call it a man cave) until 11 AM at least, which made him only vaguely better than Tony.  
  
It took only a bit of further exploring in for Tony to find out exactly what it was that drew the crowd out.  
  
“Ah! Good day to you, Tony.” Thor gave a bellowing greeting just as he opened his mouth for another piece of Pop-Tart to be thrown into his mouth.  
  
That wasn’t strange.  
  
What was strange was that Clint was the one throwing the Pop-Tarts from ground level, using his mastery of physics for the greater good. This morning, the greater good was apparently feeding Thor who was completely and totally duct-taped flat to the ceiling, lost in a sea of gaudy silver.  
  
“That… shouldn’t even be remotely possible,” the genius muttered just a little bit above the level of ‘audible’, watching in awe as he also shielded himself from the crumbs that were raining down.  
  
“Really?” And Tony nearly forgot that Coulson was beside him until the man spoke up, “because last I heard, you were into proving the impossible things to be completely possible, Stark.”  
  
“Yeah, but that’s more like sneaking in and dressing up the John Harvard statue into Master Chief from Halo 3 the night before it’s released,” Tony chimed in, recalling that little stunt at MIT, “Not… duct-taping football players to ceilings.”  
  
Except there was a little note of amazement in his voice that wasn’t completely smothered. Tony couldn’t hide the fact that this was a pretty fantastic prank seeing as most people would be destroyed by Thor if they took him in the middle of the night. How they managed to tape him to the ceiling without even waking him up was a little beyond even Tony’s imagination.  
  
That’s when it clicked.  
  
“Wait—” he whipped around to look at Coulson incredulously, “Are you seriously telling me that you think I did this to Thor?”  
  
They both ignored the “Nay!! Tony would never!” that echoed from the ceiling. (Tony also ignored the fact that he could never, considering the difference in height and weight between him and his newfound attorney.)  
  
“Well, we haven’t exactly gotten an excellent look at the security feeds yet, but this does look a little bit like your handiwork,” Coulson raised a brow, apparently not relenting as he did put a hand on Tony’s shoulder to guide him to Fury’s office.  
  
Tony scoffed. “I’m offended, I’ve only used duct tape in my field experiments once.”  
  
‘Field experiments’ had become Tony’s affectionate names for when he came up with (what he thought of as) clever acts that also perhaps moonlighted as mischief.  
  
(The particular incident that involved duct tape was incredibly minor compared to a football player taped to buildings. It was instead just one (1) Clint Barton with his mouth, hands, and ankles taped and delivered to the apartment of one (1) Natasha Romanoff.  
  
Tony called it a field experiment in gender roles and modern gift-giving.)  
  
“Just go with him, Tony,” Natasha waved a hand and pretended not to have a little smile at the memory of having an archer delivered to her doorstep. “The sooner you’re out of there, the sooner you can help us get Thor down. We’re running out of Pop-Tarts and he still hasn’t had breakfast. This could start to look bad.”  
  
So that’s why the Stark heir heaved a heavy, heavy sigh that must’ve weighed at least five of Thor before shrugging and following along with less of a fight. “The things I do for you guys.”  
  
Things like probably getting yelled at by an angry, half-blind man.  
  
Coulson had the decency to look at least slightly guilty (and by slightly guilty it means to translate as not really that remorseful but at least not smug).  
  


 

* * *

  
  
“Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Stark?”  
  
He’d received this particular question from this particular man in this particular room a few too many times, so that’s why Tony managed to muster up a very fake pull of his lips upwards into a hideously over-eager smile as he delivered his answer.  
  
“Because I’m sexy and I know it?”  
  
Fury’s one good eye stared at him in an unamused fashion.  
  
So Tony took that as a victory as he grinned, “Come on. LMFAO? I’m sure you’ve heard it way too many times from all the parties that you have to break up. They’re pretty great—well no, that’s a lie. But they’re pretty good if you need something to grind t—”  
  
“Mr. Stark, I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit.”  
  
“Can we get a swear jar in here or something? I think that you’re not allowed to use that language,” he spoke with wide eyes, completely feigned of course, but that was half the fun. “I feel harassed—I’m sorry, who do I speak to if I feel harassed by the Dean of Students? Is there a Dean of Deans or something?”  
  
“Hate to break it to you, but I’m all you’ve got,” Fury looked at him with the same unentertained gaze that made Tony think he probably shouldn’t pursue a life in comedy. “Now would you care to explain to me why our quarterback is out there hanging from the ceiling and being fed like a pigeon by another pigeon?”  
  
Tony made an effort not to laugh – if Fury wouldn’t laugh at his jokes, he’d try to return the favor – at the really, strangely apt description of Clint being called a pigeon. That was a new bird joke he needed to remember.  
  
“Only if you can tell me why one of my friends is out there hanging from the ceiling and I’m in here instead of trying to help get him down,” he quipped in return.  
  
Fury tilted his chin up, “Because when something goes wrong in this school, it’s basic procedure to check up with you first. Standard protocol and all that.”  
  
“Oh wow, I’m part of standard protocol? That’s downright flattering.”  
  
Shaking his head and clearly losing patience to go along with his complete lack of interest, Fury leaned back against his chair, “Coulson’s out to grab the second suspect as we speak. It’d just look bad if we didn’t even suspect you—”  
  
“Worse than apprehending a completely innocent student?”  
  
“Much worse.”  
  
“You really don’t like me, huh?”  
  
Before Fury could give his rude answer to the question was just asking for, the door swung open again and earned the attention of both people in the room. There were another two people at the door.  
  
One of them was Coulson, whose first name Tony didn’t even know, and the other was someone he’d never seen before, but wished he’d seen much earlier. It was even enough for him to lower his sunglasses to get an untinted look. Dark hair, snappy dresser, sharp features, and even sharper and snappier impossibly green eyes. Tony’s curiosity was piqued when he noticed this one lacked the nervous, fidgety posture that normally accompanied those who were brought to Fury’s office (minus himself, of course). In fact, he almost looked bored and a few bits indignant.  
  
Tony raised a brow and freely commented, “He’s sexy and he knows it too.”  
  
It prompted a slight quirk at the very edge of the other’s lips. In response, Tony gave a grin that he knew very much read ‘hey gorgeous, I don’t know you but I’d like to.’  
  
“Mr. Stark, you can leave now,” came Fury’s voice from behind him, ever the mood killer.  
  
“Just when things are getting good?” Tony rose from his seat, still keeping his eyes on the newcomer who just gave a slight inclination of his head to the left, denoting just a hint of interest.  
  
Not too easy, Tony liked that.  
  
“You’re dismissed,” Fury repeated with a tone of finality. Tony was just about to respond when he heard a loud thump come from beyond the hall and winced slightly.  
  
They sure did get Thor down. And apparently none of the mats that Natasha was talking about.  
  
“It’s been fun as always, Fury. See you next week,” he gave his cheeky response as he just brushed past Coulson and the new guy. He quickly mouthed ‘call me’ to which he got a smile.  
  
Now it had to be Tony’s imagination because that didn’t look a smile of invitation, instead it was one of mockery. And that had to be completely wrong because Tony Stark didn’t get mocked when he expressed his interest. That just wasn’t how it worked.  
  
But then it was Fury’s, “Mr. Odinson, would you care to explain your actions?” that slipped into the air just before the door closed behind Tony that made him suddenly reconsider ever that he knew.  
  


 

* * *

  
  
Tony was just barely able to work his head around the fact that he just had a sudden encounter with Loki Odinson by the time he had wandered back to where all the others were gathered.   
  
Thor was nursing an arm while Bruce seemed to be nursing his everything and Tony could only make a guess at exactly what had managed to cushion Thor’s fall. Pieces of duct tape still hung from the giant’s golden tresses, and looking up there was a very clear outline of where Thor had been kept in his cheap, silvery prison.  
  
But it was a reminder coming from Tony’s phone that made him realize he was even later for the meeting with his advisor than he intended to be and so he didn’t have time to chat. Really, he was still pretty caught up in his own thoughts.  
  
So he just gave Thor a friendly slap on his non-injured shoulder as he walked by, “Welcome back to sea level, big guy. Sorry if I forego the reunion party, I need to go have someone tell me how to earn my fifth degree even though I found my way ass-backwards into the other four.” And because he was still thinking very much of green eyes and not-quite-smiles, he let something else slip—  
  
“By the way, your brother’s hot.”  
  
The original smile that Thor wore gained a slight look of befuddlement as his brows knitted together ever so slightly. “What was that?”  
  
“I said your brother’s caught. Save him from Fury.”  
  
Thor seemed to hear a vague alarm going off in his ears before he gave a grave nod and started to walk off in the direction of the dean’s office.  
  
Tony breathed a heavy sigh of relief.  
  
That was a close one.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's that! I hope you enjoyed and your comments and kudos always set my heart aflutter. c:


End file.
